Arts & Entertainment
Steps to Stonewall
Early ‘60s D.C. protests laid groundwork for riots, activists say
Editor’s note: This story is reprinted from the June 5, 2009 edition of the Blade.
The widely held notion that 1969’s Stonewall riots in New York’s Greenwich Village were the start of the modern gay rights movement is inaccurate local activists say as they were meeting and picketing years before.
“When people say as you so often hear, that the gay movement started with Stonewall, if I have a chance under the circumstances in which it’s said, I invariably correct them very insistently,” says Frank Kameny, 84, a legendary gay activist widely recognized as one of the great leaders of the homophile movement, as it was then known. “And point out that the movement was just sort of 20 years old already and there was a groundwork.”
Kameny and others who were involved in the early years agree, though, that Stonewall’s influence can’t be overstated, through its significance wasn’t immediately apparent.
Kameny, Lilli Vincenz, Paul Kuntzler, the late Barbara Gittings, the late Jack Nichols and others had been involved in East Coast gay activism for years. An April 1965 picket at the White House by the Kameny-and-Nichols-founded Mattachine Society of Washington was the first of its kind, but involved a small group dressed — at Kameny’s insistence — in shirts and ties for the men and dresses or skirts for the women.
“Things culturally were very, very different then,” Kameny says, describing the scene of an early picket at the Civil Service Commission to protect the inability of gays to get security clearances. “In 1965, men’s shirts were white. Period. There were no other kinds. Dress was very conservative. It changed over the next half decade, changed very significantly … but in terms of those days, if we’re gonna picket to be employed, we have to look employable by their standards.”
A handful of gay groups existed on the East Coast and met regularly as the East Coast Homophile Organizations (ECHO). Those involved say it was a different world.
“Most gay people at the time were not interested in any kind of civil rights activity,” Vincenz, 71, says. “So we were seen as kind of Don Quixotes chasing windmills. I felt they could at least give us some money, but they didn’t do that either. They were worried about their careers and they thought it was a lost cause. They couldn’t imagine it. So I was seen as a crusader and so we were a small group.”
Kameny says it soon became obvious from ECHO gatherings that D.C.’s Mattachine Society was a trendsetter taking on the Civil Service Commission, the qualification of homosexuality as an illness by the American Psychiatric Association, security clearances, the military gay ban and more.
“All those things we were doing, nobody else was doing to any meaningful extent anywhere,” Kameny says. “We had ECHO meetings in October of each year in ’63, ’64 and ’65 and monthly meetings here in Washington, Philadelphia and New York over that period and the Washington Mattachine was doing things and reporting to everyone else what we were doing. Philadelphia had two women … the New York Mattachine had monthly meetings but they were just meetings, they weren’t accomplishing anything particularly. The things that were being done were being done by us here.”
Kuntzler met Kameny one night at the Chicken Hut, a gay D.C. bar, in late February of ’62 and found a kindred spirit. He remembers the sign he made to carry in the first White House protest.
“Jack (Nichols) saw my poster and wanted it, so I let him carry it,” Kuntzler, 67, says with a chuckle. “He ended up in the front of a photo carrying my sign.”
“That was the first time we had any visibility,” Vincenz, who’ll be honored as a Pride “superhero” with Kameny at this year’s Capital Pride parade, says. “Confidential magazine picked us up and put our pictures everywhere. … We’d never had any visibility before that actually.”
One of ECHO’s signature yearly events was an Independence Day protest each year at Independence Hall in Philadelphia. The one held in 1969, though, which turned out to be ECHO’s last, was markedly different. Stonewall had happened less than a week before and changed things forever.
None of the Mattachine activists were involved in the Stonewall riots. Because it was a spontaneous event that quickly gathered steam during a then par-for-the-course police raid on the gay bar, the only people involved were those who happened to be at the Stonewall Inn, a seedy, Mafia-owned dive that attracted drag queens and homeless gay youth, that night. But they heard about it almost instantly.
“We were all in contact through ECHO, so we heard immediately of what had happened,” Vincenz says. “This was a big event that somebody had, so many people fought back against the police.”
Kameny doesn’t remember exactly whom he heard the news from first but says he was “elated.”
In Philadelphia just days later at the ECHO protest, it was clear the formal Mattachine members had some new allies.
“It looked very different,” Vincenz says. “People didn’t care about any dress rules. The Stonewall crowd came over and there we had, we weren’t supposed to have beards and sandals but now we had beards and sandals. I remember two women, black, white, holding a baby and holding hands. It was just new. And there was some of kind of disgruntlement by some of the old guard. This was a new influx of grassroots activists.”
While the Independence Day picket seemed slightly different, it became apparent that things were much different on June 28, 1970 for the first Christopher Street Gay Liberation Day March, a one-year commemoration of Stonewall that morphed into the annual Pride parades.
Kameny, who attended, was dumbfounded by the turnout.
“I remember … seeing this vast horde of people and I was absolutely speechless,” he says. “Flowing in like a river into the Sheep Meadow in Central Park. If nothing else, there it was in front of one’s eyes. It would have been impossible in terms of anything movement-wise prior to that. We had clearly overstepped a line. We had transitioned.”
Cliff Witt, a longtime local D.C. gay activist, accompanied Vincenz to the parade as a camera assistant for the film she made called “Gay and Proud.”
“I had heard of Stonewall before, but I don’t remember how I first heard,” he says. “I had many trepidations. You could not be gay in those days. Lilli was out through her Mattachine work. I agreed that I would be like the press, running along side, but not part of it.”
Back home in Washington, huge changes were underway. The Mattachine Society was winding down, eclipsed somewhat by the newly formed Gay Activist Alliance (GAA, which became the Gay & Lesbian Activist Alliance in the ‘80s), a spin-off of a similar New York group.
Stonewall’s significance is almost universally recognized but it’s not the whole story players active then say.
Kuntzler says Stonewall-type events were also brewing in Washington around that time. He recalls a May 1969 night at D.C.’s Plus One, a gay bar on 8th Street, S.E. It didn’t turn violent and wasn’t as dramatic as Stonewall, but the long line of gay men waiting to get in that Thursday night didn’t turn and run when a mammoth flock of police cars arrived.
“They hardly paid any attention (to the cops),” Kuntzler says. “It just didn’t work, so the cops went away. This was a liberation in a way, too. It was indicative of a profound psychological shift that had started.”
“It was like Stonewall started the mainstream gays,” Witt says. “It sort of started the organization of the gay liberation movement as we came to know it. … It became more militant and demanding and in your face. We weren’t polite any longer.”
Kameny puts it succinctly: “I feel we created a mindset without which Stonewall would not have occurred at all.”
Theater
Dawn Huggins reflects on year-long reign as Miss Adams Morgan
38th annual pageant set for Halloween night
38th Annual Miss Adams Morgan Pageant
Saturday, Oct. 31
Washington Hilton
1919 Connecticut Ave., N.W.
thedupontsocialclub.com
On Halloween night at the Washington Hilton, the annual Miss Adams Morgan Pageant, D.C.’s largest and longest-running amateur drag competition, turns 38.
It also marks the end of HRH Dawn Huggins’s year-long reign as Miss Adams Morgan.
Joe Kuehne, the transformative performer who brings Dawn Huggins to life on stage, reviews the reign philosophically: “It’s funny, like most of life, the time flew by, and sometimes it didn’t. As a contestant, the preparation and planning can be a slog and then it’s all over before you know it.”
But, he adds, the time has been filled with creativity, community involvement, and innovation.
This year’s pageant is promised to run at a fast pace. The show kicks off with a mashup number starring Dawn Huggins along with several former queens. Dawn’s bit is a tribute to “The Shining.” Her carefully planned look is “haunted.”
Next, the seven contestants vying for the big title participate in the Parade of States (and U.S. territories). Their bios are read as they walk (doing whatever they wish with props of their choosing). The second half is performance (lip sync, comedic skits, etc.) and after several hours, a winner is selected by a panel of judges and the audience.
Prior to Dawn Huggins snatching the crown in October 2025, Kuehne wore numerous other pageant hats including “drag-wearing” attendee, contestant, and house videographer.
In 2006, Kuehne’s documentary short “Relative Freedom” (about his family’s reaction to his queerness) was screened at Reel Affirmations film festival. It caught the attention of that year’s reigning Miss Adams Morgan. She invited Kuehne to partner in adding video to the pageant. He accepted and had kept with it for two decades.
Inspired by the competitors and fun, he decided to give the pageant a shot. So, Dawn Huggins (“I’m a hugger, so the name fit.”) began competing, and won the title on her fifth try.
Putting on a dress and entertaining a ballroom full of people was never too much of a stretch for Kuehne. Prior to competing, he’d been a part of the audience in drag, and as a kid did community theater.
Over the years, Dawn has lip-synced (Brandi Carlile, Tory, Whitney, Mariah) and wooed the festive though not always easy-to-please throng with her clever comedy and camp. Last year for her winning number and skit, she did songs from “Wicked,” replacing the evil Wizard with Trump. “Not a huge leap,” she adds.
By day, Kuehne does marketing for tech companies: “In that role some of what I do is video production. The drag aspect doesn’t come up very often,” he deadpans. “But yes, the skillsets do overlap.”
Kuehne never thought of Dawn Huggins as a beautiful or polished queen; she was never meant to be that. He says, “I do my best to pull it together. But my goal is pure entertainment.”
Occasionally Dawn includes a message in what she does: “I try not to be too heavy handed about it. The second-year’s number was inspired by a person who, troubled by their sexuality, took their own life. Some of the audience members were moved, and that’s meaningful to me.”
Started in 1988 by a group of friends getting in drag and celebrating Halloween at Annie’s Paramount Steak House, the Miss Adams Morgan Pageant quickly ballooned into a storied tradition requiring a board and oversight.
Also in 1988, the Dupont Social Club was founded to not only encourage community but also help the pageant run things. Currently, Kuehne serves as the club’s V.P. of Social Events. Responsibilities include planning events, tracking attendance, and keeping things lively.
As both Queen and V.P., Kuehne is in a unique position to make things happen. During Dawn’s reign, the club created Sloppy Saturdays at Her Diner in Adams Morgan, a monthly happy hour fundraising event with performance tips and event donations going to support local LGBTQ+ nonprofits.
And now, as outgoing queen, HRH Dawn Huggins is charged with selecting the pageant’s charitable beneficiary.
She’s wisely chosen Whitman-Walker Legal Services. which provides free, comprehensive civil legal assistance to people living with HIV/AIDS, patients of Whitman-Walker Health, and members of the LGBTQ+ community across the greater Washington, D.C. region.
“With all that has and is going on, this feels like the right time to make that choice.”
Because the pageant has almost always taken place in October, it’s loosely tied to Halloween.
This year the show (themed “Something Wicked This Way Comes”) lands on Oct. 31, ticking all the boxes for pageant, drag show, and huge costume party.
On and offstage, you’re likely to see sequined gowns, ginormous hair, ermine robes alongside conceptual creations and comedic to dead serious style homages.
“What the contestants bring to the stage is pretty incredible, but sometimes that extraordinary creativity is surpassed by the audience members filling the ballroom, and we love that.”
a&e features
How Orville Peck healed his inner child through ‘Street Fighter (2026)’
Famous singer discusses this new role, what it means as LGBTQ artist
When asked to think about Orville Peck, most people would immediately remember the man’s music, his time on Broadway, his many scintillating photoshoots or, of course, the ornate masks he wears throughout it all.
Most wouldn’t, at least before a few months ago, think about the long-lasting video game franchise, “Street Fighter.”
This historic fighting game doesn’t instantly mesh with the image that Orville has spent years developing. The country singer has garnered national acclaim through his four albums, sultry and often somber affairs that have earned him numerous awards and thousands of fans. Along with his voice, new listeners are intrigued by his masks; Peck always wears a face covering to protect his privacy and embody a distinctly queer flair in his work. These are only removed for very special occasions — such as his renowned turn as the Emcee in a Broadway revival of “Cabaret” — with even his recent centerfold in the sexy magazine Playgirl seeing Orville bare everything except his face.
The musician does all of this while being proudly gay, serving as one of the most notable queer celebrities we have today. This, combined with his dynamic career, has earned Peck legions of supporters, each one excited about whatever new project he decides to do next. And they were all completely shocked in early 2026 when Orville announced just what that project would be: starring in Kitao Sakurai’s live-action adaptation of the classic video game, “Street Fighter.”
“They didn’t know I grew up playing this game, so it was so cool!” Peck raved as he discussed the film with the Los Angeles Blade. For the less digitally-minded of us, “Street Fighter” is an immensely popular gaming franchise, with this decades-spanning series offering dozens of games filled with colorful characters players can fight as. The cast for this latest adaptation dropped earlier this year and included stars like Jason Momoa, David Dastmalchian, Callina Liang — and, of course, Orville Peck.
“Fighting games probably draw a lot of queer people in [because] you can choose which character speaks to you, and they belong there,” Orville explained. “They don’t have to prove themselves…they belong, and you can connect in that way, since maybe you didn’t belong or [feel] included,” Orville admitted that it’s a connection he’s experienced himself; the man spent many hours of his childhood playing “Street Fighter” with his brothers. And one of his favorite characters was Vega, the bullfighting, gorgeous assassin obsessed with his own appearance (and slashing his opponents to ribbons).
It’s why there was no question Orville would take on the role when it was first offered to him. This may seem like an easy choice for many viewers — both Peck and Vega wear a mask — but the singer stressed that his link to the character went far beyond just the physical. “Vega did carry this kind of queer-coded energy that queer fans of “Street Fighter” have always picked up on and related to. And I was encouraged to not stray away from that — they wanted that to be included.”
Vega serves as the loyal henchman of “Street Fighter”’s main villain, M. Bison, with the claw-wielding fighter filling his screen time with snarky humor, great action scenes, and a distaste for wearing a shirt. But Vega also serves as a vital contrast in the film by punctuating the hypermasculinity of the men around him. He shows that queerness and strength can go hand-in-hand, with Orville finding it so affirming to bring out that universal truth through his performance.
It was something that he enjoyed not only for his adult self, but for the younger version who loved nothing more than playing “Street Fighter” with his brothers, saying, “Being a little queer kid … I definitely did not feel at times that I was going to be welcomed into some things in life, right? Getting to be the only openly gay man in this film with a bunch of very heterosexual gentlemen running around, and then having my place next to them? I think that would be really encouraging and healing to little Orville, for sure.”
Orville went on about his amazing co-stars — he warmly referred to Callina Liang, who plays Chun-Li in the film, as ‘my sister’ — and the countless joys this role brought him. When asked whether he would return for a possible sequel, he emphasized, “We’re all so close as a cast now. Everybody loves and supports each other so much. I would 100% do it again, of course.” It’s a promising message for many queer viewers absolutely loving his turn as Vega, and it signals an uplifting development for the man himself.
Orville Peck’s entire career is dedicated to utmost authenticity, showing your truest self in a way that feels genuine and recognizing what that truth brings to yourself and others. In a movie filled with nonstop fighting and campy chaos, he still managed to channel that into every second of his time onscreen. And whether it be as Vega or whatever role he decides to take next, it’s a vital message that this musician — and, he will remind you now, actor — will always work hard to make the center of his work.
Out & About
DC Center celebrates a decade of its art gallery
‘The Art of Belonging’ fall reception scheduled for Saturday
The DC LGBTQ+ Community Center will host “The Art of Belonging, a Fall Reception & Art Auction” on Saturday, Oct. 17 at 7 p.m. at 1827 Wiltberger St. NW.
This event will celebrate 10 years of Center Arts Gallery, an arts & cultural offering of The DC LGBTQ+ Community Center. Charity Blackwell will guide guests through the evening, with live music from 2nd Independence, DC Different Drummers’ jazz combo, bringing warm, joyful energy to the celebration. There will also be food selections from Shaw’s Tavern’s new fall menu, along with a Sweets Flight of desserts created by Chef Patrick Vanas.
For more details, visit the DC Center’s website or see page 8 in this week’s Blade.
Dawn Huggins reflects on year-long reign as Miss Adams Morgan
How Orville Peck healed his inner child through ‘Street Fighter (2026)’
DC Center celebrates a decade of its art gallery
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